Page 66 of 12 Years
‘Baby, men have fought wars for their women. You can’t even make some cables to get the girl of your dreams?’
‘But I do comedy—’
Payal interrupted me, ‘I’ll say that comedy is a hobby for you. You took a break after selling your business and working in the US for a few years.’
‘It’s not a hobby, Payal. It’s who I am now. A stand-up comic.’
‘Please, it’s for them. Just for now.’
‘And then what? I’m supposed to go to the factory in Thane and check accounts and extrude cables?’
‘Listen, my dad runs the business just fine. In his head, he eventually wants a male heir, and his own son can’t be one.’
‘Male, eh?’
‘Yes. That’s how he is. His daughter may buy and sell big companies at Blackwater, but he doesn’t think I can manage a two-acre plant.’
‘I can’t though. And this heir thing? So this means we’re expected to get married?’
‘Not immediately. I’ll say we’re in no hurry. I know your marriage phobia, relax.’
‘It’s not that …’
‘It’s okay. I can wait, or even do without it. As long as you and I are together.’
I looked into those beautiful eyes, so full of love and courage. ‘I love you so much, Payal. I’ll do anything for you.’
‘Will you? Just one little thing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Cool, colour your hair.’
‘What?’ I said, shocked.
‘Those grey sideburns. I love them and I find them hot. Not my parents though.’
‘I should colour my hair black?’
‘Yeah, I think it’s a dark brown though. L’Oréal colour number two.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing, just go to the salon. They’ll match it with the rest of your hair.’
‘You’ll tell your parents my age, right?’
‘I’ll keep it vague. You’re fit. And with dark hair, they’ll think you’re in your late twenties.’
‘I’m thirty-four.’
‘I know, sweetie.’
‘I feel objectified.’
‘Do you?’ she asked, tugging at my T-shirt. ‘Wear a nice formal shirt too. None of these extra-tight, hot T-shirts that your arms pop out of.’
‘Fine. You’ll tell them about my divorce?’
